Doing Scholarship from a Faith Perspective: Reading the Sacred as Sacred Encounter Ismael Velasco When Moses, walking through the desert, came upon Mount Horeb, he beheld God speaking from within a flame of fire amidst a burning bush, ablaze, yet unconsumed, and calling out to him: “Moses! Moses!” To which he unhesitatingly replied: “Here am I.” Whereupon he was commanded, “Draw not nigh hither: put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place wherein thou standest is holy ground.”1 Today no man can claim to have seen the burning bush; but the voice of the Transcendent calls still in accents of absolute authority in the Holy Writ of the religions of the world. A reader who would venture to such formidable and self-sufficient mountains, whereon millions hear, even today, the voice of God or truth supreme, and seek with reason and study to gain a glimmer of that spot wherein Moses stood, such a one, believer or not, would do well, like Moses, to halt for thought, and first put off his sandals in respect, else reverence, for the sheer magnitude of his purposed subject. For in approaching scripture, it will be readily acknowledged, one is dealing with a text extraordinary in the most palpable way. No other text outside of scripture carries so profoundly in every word a million and a million life-trajectories; no other category of text has so deeply shaped or shapes today so many identities in such far-reaching ways. To say “this word means this” of a part of sacred scripture is, wittingly or unwittingly, to pronounce on the meaning of unnumbered lives whose hopes and yearnings are, were or will be built around a given understanding of the very words one is pronouncing on - peripheral or irrelevant though they might seem to the commentator. When encountering scripture then, even outwith a religious commitment, a text is never just a text, and context means much more than sitz im leben, the “setting in life” or circumstances of revelation.2 The same is true about sacred history, itself mediated largely through the written word in the form of diverse documentation. If such reflections might give pause to any thoughtful reader, doubly may it be so for a believer in the spiritual authority of a religion’s holy writings. For such a reader, if he be fully alive to the experience of faith, reverence might well dictate a certain 1 Genesis, 3:1-5 2 The term originates with the founder of biblical form criticism, Hermann Gunkel, and has since become a fundamental tool in scriptural study. Cf. R.E. Clements, A Century of Old Testament Study (2nd ed.; Guildford: Lutterworth Press, 1983), and G. M. Tucker, Form Criticism of the Old Testament. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1971, chapters 4-6. trepidation before the mysterium tremendum et fascinans3 which absolute transcendence must evoke in a self-aware mind, as with the pragmatic tools of analysis he seeks to understand, and then articulate, the nature or meaning of a text that claims to be divine in origin, ineffable in meaning, infinite in depth, and all-encompassing in scope. In the face of such considerations as apply either to a careful, or to a reverential reader, it is not my goal in the ensuing essays to arrive at a set of clearly laid rules or hermeneutic formulas. Such a venture would seem chimerical before the complexity of textuality itself, a field which in the twentieth century in particular may be said to have exploded under the impact of a myriad lines of approach in history, hermeneutics, anthropology, philosophy, linguistics and literary criticism, to name but a few prominent lenses. And if this be the case for texts devoid of claims to transcendent or ineffable meaning, how much more elusive will be the aim of codifying the interpretation of texts as multilayered and complex as a religion’s sacred corpus. Rather, the efforts garnered here represent an attempt at pausing for thought - at taking in, rather than taking for granted, the immensity of the act of reading, beyond linguistic or grammatical considerations, the meaning of texts, sacred and historical, that shape the daily lives of millions. It is also an experiment, to discover in practice the implications of studying sacred scripture and its consequences under the three guiding orientations of academic rigour, personal faith, and universality, born of a keen consciousness of one’s humanity, its frailty, its connectedness, its catastrophes, its possibilities, in the context of the overarching adaptive challenge of globalization. These are not the only orientations one may take before the subject, nor might they yet be the best ones, but they transparently represent the author’s actual starting point, dictate his hermeneutical intent or thrust, and shape his manner of expression. The problem with faith perspectives At the outset, then, is a frank acknowledgement of what may be designated a “faith perspective”, that is, the author’s intellectual recognition and even more, existential commitment, to the claims put forward by the texts and figures he intends to study, as far as he may understand those claims. This is not without its complications. It is today, less so perhaps than in decades past, a delicate thing for a writer to acknowledge in print one’s religious commitments, nor indeed is it always relevant or necessary. Academic writing, and even more academic methodologies, have been for the most part decidedly agnostic in their tenor, with the unique exception of theology, consisting mainly of believers speaking to believers about the substance of belief (a branch of study that, whilst drawing on other fields in its endeavours, is but seldom turned to by other academic disciplines for substantive contributions). The reason for this methodological agnosticism and for the comparative discursive isolation of theologians is not difficult to deduce, and is nicely expressed by the editors of the ambitious Syntopicon of the University of Chicago’s Great Books of the Western World project: 3 Cf. Rudolf Otto, The Idea of the Holy, Trans. John W. Harvey. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1923; 2nd ed., 1950 [Das Heilige, 1917], pp.12-13 “Argument is unprofitable – worse than that, unintelligible – when opponents do not share a common ground... Lack of a common measure for judging opposing views tends to render them uncommunicable to one another. For men to be in this plight is the exception in science and philosophy, but it seems to be the typical situation where the basic issues of religion are concerned. Of all subjects the most controversial, religious issues seem to be the least capable of being settled by controversy... Faith and lack of faith, or the diversity of faiths, seem to render certain questions as imponderable as they are weighty.”4 With this in mind modern academia, by making methodology religiously agnostic, has sought to establish universally comprehensible criteria that might facilitate the objective study of reality, unimpeded by the intensely subjective incommunicability of personal faith. Hence, while a Christian, a Muslim, a Buddhist and an Atheist would be unlikely to accept equally the procedural premises of Christian theology, taking as its starting point the salvific intervention of God in history and the advent of Jesus Christ as the acme and axis of that intervention, they very likely would find themselves in agreement when it comes to the premises of mathematical logic if they be mathematicians, experimental method if they be scientists, or grammar if linguists. If a given premise was questioned by one party in this second scenario, it would be most likely on the basis of other, fully shared premises – the ability to meaningfully debate and disagree about one premise would itself be an indication of sufficient common ground in which to do so. On the other hand, a predicate following directly from the premise of the existence of God would be a priori inadmissible to an atheist, just as a predicate resting solely on the assumption that Jesus was the Messiah awaited by the tribes of Israel, could not be entertained by a Jew who considers that same Messiah is yet to come. But if one can argue that contemporary academic methods are, can or should be theologically neutral, equally available and applicable to the religiously committed as to the undecided, atheistic or agnostic scholar, it is now largely acknowledged that no academic writing is in fact ideologically neutral or value free. The degree to which values impinge on the scholarly process varies in relation to the matter of study, perhaps influencing least mathematical investigations;5 perhaps affecting most the analysis of religion from whatever angle one might interrogate it, historical, philosophical, ethical, anthropological, phenomenological, sociological or historical. From this perspective, it may be suggested that, when it comes to religion, regardless of the methodology applied, a writer’s stance is never neutral, though in his use of language, by avoiding explicit theological or value judgements he might achieve a degree of rhetorical neutrality. But the fact remains that religions call for and imply a degree of existential assent to their truth-claims, which one can accept or deny with greater or lesser degrees of conviction, but before which one cannot achieve a neutral 4 “Religion”, in The Great Ideas, A Syntopicon of the Great Books of the Western World, M.J Adler (editor in chief), Encyclopedia Britannica, Chicago, 1987, p.418 5 Although even in this apparently value-neutral field we find that cultural and even religious values do indeed impinge on and are implicit in mathematical conceptions, as cogently argued by Alan J. Bishop in “Western mathematics: the secret weapon of cultural imperialism”, in B.